The Brat (Act Your Age ) Ch 01- Responsibility

 Dear Reader,
As I got to later chapters I realized I needed to change Chapter 1 significantly as what I was describing in the beginning of the chapter needed some scenes to flesh out Shane's misbehaving.  I have moved the incident here of Mr. Grant's ultimatum to a later chapter and worked in a part of narrative I thought would come right after this when I wrote it.  

This is the writing process for me. Yes, it's like revealing the man behind the curtain, but stick with me as I am excited about the chapters ahead. I will leave this chapter as is, to have a draft reference, but have also posted the new Chapter 01 and Chapter 02. I hope you enjoy.

Here is the first chapter of my new book The Brat which is a continuation of Act Your Age. This first chapter came to me pretty easily along with some ideas for future chapters. I just wrote an edging scene last night that got me pretty excited. The full book will be out Dec. 21, 2014.

Right now I don't believe I will be posting the whole book on my blog but will post the first few chapters (10%) that would be seen through Kindle and possibly a few other chapters. This will be sporadic when I feel they are 100% complete.

I will still be posting other erotica short stories on the blog though.

Sincerely,
Bryan

Once you start living with someone, like I had with Mr. Grant, it is easy to fall into old habits.  This was especially true when I bought a new video game system and flat screen television and put them in the guest room.  I had little else to spend my money from work on so I decided on an impulse to get something for myself.  It was easy to play a game for hours at a time in the morning and between classes and work.  I kept up my homework as usual for my new classes but when I didn’t have an important responsibility, when Mr. Grant wasn’t home, I played my games.  It was even better when Ethan was on at the same time.  We chatted a little as we played but mostly we talked strategy. 

Ethan didn’t ask for another session with Mr. Grant and I didn’t bring it up.  He told me about guys he met and that none of them seemed to be into spanking.  He said most of them were too superficial.  He said he liked the idea of someone being athletic, even a little self-centered, but when they started getting judgmental then he had a problem.  Our conversations made me think about my own experiences ‘dating’ and how Tucker had been my ‘fuck-buddy’ but I didn’t miss it. 

Being single, trying to find a new guy every night, hoping one of them would mean something all felt so desperate.  I liked the idea of being with someone, having a home, a warm body to cling to in bed, and the feeling of knowing someone would be there for me.

Mr. Grant seemed to take little notice of my new distraction.  He had been a little different since we got back from Las Vegas.  He reprimanded me, gave me a few corrective smacks on the ass, but we hadn’t had an intense session like the ones we had before and we didn’t talk about Ethan.  We did have sex on a regular basis though, usually after work.  It was the perfect release when we got home and it helped us both get to sleep easier. 

This went on for several weeks.  I thought about saying something to him but I didn’t know how to bring up the subject.  Why don’t you give me a good spanking?  It felt ridiculous to ask so I kept pushing it to the side of my mind and focused on the good things instead like how we seemed close in every other way.  Well, not every other way because really we didn’t talk about our past.  We talked about our present a little.  We talked about our future a little, maybe a vacation during Thanksgiving break. 

It all felt so predictable and comfortable until one Sunday in early Fall when Mr. Grant and I were both home but I was playing a video game with Ethan, who was online, in the living room while Mr. Grant was doing chores.  I had thought about helping him several times but somehow I convinced myself I’d be interfering with his ability and would only anger him. 

Things seemed to be going okay until I saw him carrying a load of laundry from the bedroom to the washer and my stomach sunk.  I remembered I had left a load of my whites in there and for a moment I thought to jump up and go after him, apologize, and switch them to the dryer but he was too quick and I felt like I’d be letting Ethan down to stop the game.  There was no yelling like my parents would have done.  I didn’t hear anything when I pulled off my headset, just the sound of him loading the dryer, starting it, and then loading the washer.  It was easy and I pulled the speakers back over my ears as Ethan asked me why I wasn’t moving my character.

“Sorry, just thought I’d be getting yelled at because I left some of my clothes in the washer.  It doesn’t seem to be a big deal.”

“Do you need to do something?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t think so,” I replied.

We continued to play the game for another hour before Ethan finally said he had to take a break.  I was feeling pretty drained myself as I felt over stimulated and said I needed one as well.  I turned off the system, made my way to the hallway.  I hadn’t seen Mr. Grant for some time so I checked our room first but he wasn’t there.  I walked through the house, checked the living room, the dining room, and finally I found him in the kitchen.  He was in a pair of shorts and a tank top, one knee over the other as he read a book, a cup of coffee on the table nearby. 

At the sight of him I felt horny and mischievous.  He looked confident, well groomed, and stylish even as casually as he was dressed.  I was the opposite.  My hair was uncombed, I was still in my underwear and a t-shirt, and I hadn’t showered yet.  It was an easy Sunday to me.  That is so far. 

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“Pretty good,” he replied with a brief glance up from his book.  “Are you done with your video game?”

“Yeah, I’m done for now,” I said.

I felt a bit of a cold shoulder from him so I headed to the refrigerator where I got myself a soda before I went to the kitchen table chair opposite of him and sat.  He turned the page of his book.  I opened the can and took a sip.  He continued to read for several more pages until he finished the chapter and then put the book down.  I shifted on my seat as I felt something had changed.  He stroked his beard and then turned in his seat to me.  He looked very serious. 

“We need to talk,” he said.

That’s when I remembered my clothes in the washer.  I let out a moan of frustration, the can felt extra cold against my fingertips, the condensation felt too slick. 

“You may have noticed but I have been going easy on you after our vacation.  We had such a good time and I feel so close to you that I’m worried about ruining it somehow, that if I hold you to some standard then you might not want to be in a relationship anymore.  I really care for you but I can’t just let things slide.

“You’ve been slacking around here, little things.  I know I should have mentioned it but I‘m so used to just getting things done I went ahead and took care of them anyway.  I know it might feel like my house and that you’re a guest but really you live here too.  I’m not asking you to do all of the chores but I feel like you should participate.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I was thinking we could come up with a list of chores,” he said.  “We’d share them of course.  We’d rotate them so no one gets stuck doing something for too long, but still I feel like we need to be equal in this.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” I said.

“That will be the deal going forward but today I found some laundry of yours in the washing machine.  I could lecture you about how I spent money on those clothes.  I could tell you about how they get damaged, and I know that you feel bad about it but I think you should be punished.”

I thought about making some kind of argument, some kind of excuse but I knew they would be futile.  My fate, my consequence, had been decided.  There was truly only one thing I could say.

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now bring me the wooden spoon.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of it.  The wooden spoon had last been used on Ethan and I had even avoided using it since for cooking.  Every time I saw it at the bottom of the drawer I couldn’t help but think of that day, the sound of it clapping against his bare bottom.  It was a mixture of fear and arousal that made me feel confused about such a simple implement.  And there he was telling me to get it.  I would have traded it for anything, even the paddle he used on me before we went to Vegas.  It wasn’t the pain of it.  No, I could live with that, live through it.  It was seeing him being spanked, watching his pale ass turn pink and then red, the thrill I got as he hugged me and the feeling of leading him to the bedroom where I covered him with a sheet.  It was a memento of baring witness to his punishment.  He had told me he felt so good afterwards, right back on track and on his best behavior.

I got up from the chair and walked to the drawer where I opened it and took out the wooden spoon.  It was light and breakable.  I noted the texture of it before I carried it to Mr. Grant who took it from me and set it on the table.  He had repositioned himself and was ready for me.  I squatted, laid myself over his lap, put my hands down to the floor.  My fingertips touched the linoleum, bent back a little. 

“Pull your underwear down over your ass,” Mr. Grant said.

I did as he ordered.  The fabric would have done little to protect me but it would have muffled the sound a little.  I put my fingers back down to the floor as I felt him steady me, put his left hand down on my back.  He was almost ready.

“Do you want to give me your hand now?  I don’t want you to try and stop me.”

I pulled my right hand from the floor and reached to the middle of my back where he took hold of it.  I closed my eyes, tried to focus on my breathing, but I couldn’t ready myself because of the pressure on my chest.  I could feel the exactness of the band of my underwear as it stretched across my thighs just under my buttocks.  The air was cool and I could smell his cologne but something else, the smell of the kitchen.  It was a mixture of floor cleaner and food.

The first slap landed on my right cheek and I was surprised to realize it was a hand, Mr. Grant’s hand.  One then the other, back and forth, he turned my white bottom to pink and I knew he was just getting me ready.  He was starting off easy which I needed because it had been some time but I also felt a certain impatience that I just wanted him to get to the severe part, get it over with and be done with it.  He went on longer than I could have expected.  How tough was his hand anyway?  Just when I felt the continuous throb that lasted after each hit is when he shifted me a little to get my underwear down completely, pulled it from where it still covered my erection.  My hard dick touched his shorts and I felt it was slippery as it pressed up into my pubic hair.  I knew what was coming next and that’s when I felt like I had to do anything I could to endure the pain.

Instinctively I tried to pull my hand back down to put it on the floor, to grab at the leg of the chair or even his ankle if I could get hold of it but he kept my wrist pinned there at the small of my back.  I heard the scrape of the spoon as he picked it up and I readied myself.  The crack of the spoon hitting my ass was louder than I remembered it being.  He worked the roundness of my ass thoroughly before he moved to my thighs where he started fresh.  It was a new, second kind of pain and that’s when I began to cry and squirm.  It was a pain so complete and yet two distinct areas, far enough apart that I could really feel the burn, the red heat of my skin. 

He beat the tears and screams from me until I had been thoroughly reduced, gone into some other state of consciousness, and that’s when he stopped.  He let go of my wrist, my hand fell from my back and I put it out to the floor.  It too had turned red from lack of circulation.  I felt pins and needles as the blood returned.  I heard him set the spoon back down and I knew it was over.  I cried some more until he signaled for me to get up.  He helped me to my feet, pulled my briefs back up over my dick and balls, my ass. I thought for a moment he would pull me back down to his lap to sit so he could hold me but I thought about resisting because of the pain in my thighs. 

Instead he got up and pulled me into a hug, pressed my cheek into his shoulder.  His shirt got wet easily and I could taste the salty tears run down my cheeks.  We stayed like that for a long time until the moment passed and then he took me by the hand and led me back to our bedroom.  He lay me face down and retrieved lotion from the bathroom.  The smell of it reminded me of how long it had been since it had been used on me.  It was a smell I would forever associate with a severe spanking, a needed punishment, a lesson learned.

Teased: Ch 11 Amateur Doesn't Mean New

To say that I had been taught a lesson was an understatement. 

I had been humiliated. 

I had just started college and I thought it would be fun to get back into Greco-Roman wrestling as a way to stay active and make some friends but I didn’t want a coach barking in my ear so I signed up for a club at the student union. 

The flyer said it was student run but that we were supposed to wear the proper clothing and equipment including a singlet and athletic shoes.  I hadn’t worn a singlet since junior high when I quit the sport because it felt weird wrestling other guys who were just as young and horny all the time like I was. 

Part of the problem was I popped a boner a few times and the other guys saw me.  And for me it was a bit more obvious because well I’m a bit big down there.  I’m not bragging just how it is.  But not only did they see it but they called me on it.  I had seen other guys get chubby or worse but I felt a shame they didn’t so I quit. 

When I signed there were three already on the sheet and space for a dozen names so I thought it would be small group.  I bought everything I needed a few days in advance, dressed in my room once to make sure everything fit.  Everything fit too well, the singlet was just as tight as I remembered it and even with a jockstrap I found myself with the problem of deciding right or left. 

Even though I had quit wrestling I still worked out all of the time to keep up my physique.  It isn’t easy these days with all the male models and magazines.  Guys got it just as bad as women. I smiled at myself in the mirror.  I had always liked the look of a singlet on the other guys because it showed off their form, not in a gay way, just, you know masculine. 

But I still felt embarrassed enough that when I heard my roommate headed back to the room I grabbed my clothes, a towel, and jumped in the bathroom we shared with the guys next door.  Luckily no one else was in there, sometimes the guys next door didn’t lock our door with the bolt lock and I walked in on them a few times.

When meeting time came I dressed in my singlet, running pants and hoody figuring I would blame my extra clothes on it being fall and the chilly New England air.  I got to the gymnasium fifteen minutes early just where the flyer said the meeting would happen and was delighted to find several guys already there dressed just like me and wrestling each other on a mat.  I smiled at them as I approached and they greeted me back.

I looked to the guys locked together in a hold, saw their ass cheeks, the way they were firm and held by the tight material.  We had gotten bigger, I thought, and then I started to compare myself to them.  Many were like me, athletic but not overly developed, but a few, well a few were clearly in the best shape of their lives.  I spotted one guy on the sidelines talking with another wrestler, both of them smiled and laughed as if they were old friends. 

One of them was tighter than the other, his hands moved about his own body in a comfortable way, an almost childish way.  He rubbed at himself.  He was shorter than me and for once I thought there was someone I could beat when he looked my way and smiled.  I was flustered by his eyes and looked away.  I felt embarrassed and turned slightly.  I was ready to walk away but someone else in my way. 

“Are you here to wrestle?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded.

“Well, get your extra clothes off and come over and meet the guys,” he said.  “My name is Ed.”

“Todd,” I said.

We started to walk together.  He waved to the other guys we passed and I thought I was in the clear until we made our way to the shorter guy I noticed before and we stopped.

“This is Chester.  He’s the senior running the group.”

I shook his hand and told him my name.  Now that we were closer I could tell he was much, much smaller than me by almost a foot but his muscles were tighter than I had realized.  He looked me up and down and at first I thought he was checking me out until I realized I was still wearing my extra clothes.

“Don’t be shy,” he said.

“I’m not,” I said.

I pulled off the hoody, stepped out of the running pants, and at last I was exposed just like the rest of them.  I felt awkward until Chester turned away and I saw his muscled ass.  We were all dressed the same, I told myself.  Nothing to worry about and nothing to get excited about just guys doing guy things.

I got comfortable after that as I found myself on the bench spectating as each guy picked out the other to wrestle.  Sometimes there were two or three matches at a time on the mat as long as there could be enough space between them.  Chester mostly acted as a referee, sometimes he stepped in to show a move or a grip but he kept it fun and light.  I watched as he walked around most of the night. 

After a few hours more guys were on the bench with me than waiting to wrestle but I didn’t talk to them much.  Just a comment here and there until one guy stepped up to wrestle Chester, an oafish looking guy clearly above his weight class I thought Chester would lose easily but his speed and strength were too much for the larger man.  I found myself laughing harder at the situation until finally Chester was literally running circles around the guy, teasing him by slapping his ass and back. 

The other guys thought it was funny but at some point Chester and I locked eyes and he signaled for me to quiet down but I couldn’t.  I found myself wanting to be defiant so I started making wise cracks to the other guys not just about the guys ability but his size and that was when Chester stopped the match and came over to where I sat.

“I didn’t see you out there all night.  What about it?  Are you man enough?  I know you got the balls, I can see that clearly but maybe those are just show.”

I swallowed hard and looked him in the eye.  I wanted to bash him right there.  I wanted to jump him, get on top of him, and start hitting him but I stopped myself from acting.  It wasn’t just that he was a great wrestler and maybe, probably could have sent me to the floor, or that he was right because I hadn’t wrestled anyone the whole night, but what he said reached all the way back to my childhood. 

“So what about it?  Did you wear that uniform just to show off your big dick or are you going to get out here and wrestle someone?”

I smiled, opened my mouth to speak, and leaned back.  I looked round to the other guys who looked back at me seriously, too seriously. 

“I’m not, I mean, I would but you know.  Everyone else seemed to have a partner and it was... I don’t know.”

“You’re making excuses.  How many of you were new tonight?”

I felt motion around me, looked to see five guys all with their hands in the air.  I felt my face warm.  I wanted to walk away, get my stuff and leave but I felt the shoes on my feet, the material around my thighs, pulling at my shoulders, the way air hit my ribs and sides.  I had worn this, come here for a purpose. 

Okay, I thought, he’s challenging me.  I thought about how he had been with all the other guys then I thought about how he might be tired, the size of him.  Maybe I would get lucky, maybe he would go easy on me, or maybe I could challenge someone else. 

“Who?” I asked.

“Me,” he answered.

I shook my head.

“Come on, get out here or else you’ll be a chicken.  Maybe we should tar and feather you, march you around campus.”

“Come on,” I said.  He was joking.  Wasn’t he?

They laughed but he got serious and then I heard someone point out his change in demeanor then laugh harder.  I stood.  They started to howl and cheer, clap, hands patted me on the back, my ass.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Ed said in my ear.

I stepped down from the bleachers and Chester turned with me, directed me out to the empty mat, followed me.  Everyone got down and formed a ring around us as we moved together to the center of the mat.  He smiled a little and I smiled back but his face got serious again.  He had the best poker face I had seen in years.  This wasn’t just a regular match.  This was personal somehow.

“You can decide if we start like this or you want to be down on your knees,” he said.

“Like this,” I said not liking the idea of starting on my knees.

I started to move around on the balls of my feet, side to side, I held out my hands and he did nearly the same but I could tell he was toying with me.  I thought maybe my size would give me an advantage.  I was almost comfortable in the possibility of beating him when he slapped his way through my hands and had me around my chest, a twist of his body, a twist of mine and I was pulled from my feet.

He slammed me to the ground and knocked some air from my lungs.  I was stunned by his move.  I thought I could feel him shift for some leverage but he pushed away from me.  I would have thought he would pin me and that would be it. 

Slowly I got to my feet, adjusted my singlet and walked around to calm myself.  I looked to him but his face was still serious.  I thought about admitting defeat right then but I felt a pride in me.  He was small.  I remembered what my father had always said about small guys.  So I decided to go back at him.  I stepped to him like I had done before and I held out my hands again as the guys laughed and cheered.

I didn’t know if they were cheering for me or against me but it didn’t matter.  At that moment they disappeared from my mind and it was only me and Chester.  I advanced on him and for a moment I thought I had him in a grip when he slipped loose.  I felt his hands on one part of my body, tried to defend myself but it was a mislead, a misdirect, because his body went the opposite way, pulled me around by my elbow and he rolled me.  I hit the floor and was winded again.

That’s when I felt his hand grab my ass.  I felt his fingertips in my flesh before he grabbed at my knees and had me on my back.  I thought for a moment that I could kick him away but he turned me, had me by my ankles, I knew he could complete a hold but he stopped and jumped up.  He was playing with me. 

I pushed myself to my feet and didn’t wait for him to get ready.  I felt like I was getting an advantage when I grabbed hold of him but this time I let out a yell of anger as I felt my hands grip his waist.  We turned together.  I wanted to knock him down, pull him down, hold him.  I had him.  Then I didn’t.  He broke my grip by pushing on my elbows. 

As I fell to the floor my head between his knees, one knee under me and the other out from my body he reached under my body, I felt his hand brush past my balls.  He grabbed at my ass, I felt his fingers slip between my cheeks.  He touched my hole right there, right then, in front of everyone.  I felt naked. 

I knew at once that he could have me, bend me any way he wanted, and I was helpless but it wasn’t just him it was everyone else.  He rolled me onto my back but let go and jumped to his feet.  His hand was gone in an instant but it didn’t matter because it had happened.  He had touched me there, my hole, an almost sacred place for any guy. 

I wanted blood.  He hopped away but I followed after him this time swinging my fists.  I wanted to hit him.  I thought I might get him with at least one knuckle when he caught my wrist, bent me around and had me on the floor again but this time he maneuvered my wrist between my thighs and down to my feet.  I was on my knees and he had me in one of the most humiliating moves ever, the ball buster.

He gripped my wrist with all of his strength until he was using my own forearm to crush my nuts and my cock against my own body.  I was beaten.  He held me there for a moment until we each caught our breath.

“Are you done?” he asked.

I wanted to be done with it.  I had felt his finger on my hole and now he had me beaten in a hold that was difficult to escape.  He reached over my body and grabbed my shoulder with his other hand.  I felt as if I was being fucked.

“Are you done?” he asked again.

I wanted to be done but I felt myself begin to stir.  I felt my dick harden. 

“Not even close,” I said.

“What more do I have to do?”

Everyone was quiet.  They were waiting.

“Suck my dick,” I said.

“You’re not going to have much of a dick left,” he said before pulling on my wrist crushing me further. 

I let out a groan of pain.  I thought about all the times I had done anything I wanted, mouthed off, pushed other guys around, even got into fights.  I had escaped but this was different because he had me and he wasn’t going to let me go until I gave up.  He wanted to teach me a lesson.

“Give up man,” he said.

“Not on your life,” I said.

“Okay, then I’ll have to teach you a lesson about swinging at another guy,” he said.

His hand left my shoulder and for a moment I thought about what new move he would try, what hold he would do, maybe if he maneuvered himself I could fight back.  Maybe, just maybe I might be able to reverse the match but my shoulder was feeling sore and my hand weak. 

Where did his hand go?

Then I felt it, a spank on my ass cheek.  He hit me on each cheek, tightened the hold.  He spanked me several more times and I tried to pull away from him but I couldn’t.  I tried to kick at him but I couldn’t get my knees off the mat.  He spanked me until I stopped trying to resist.

“Are you done boy?” he asked.

My chubby was gone and I felt ready for it to be over.  I just wanted to get away, out of his grip, away from where he had me with my ass in the air.

“Yes,” I said.

“Then say you’re sorry,” he said.

“Fuck you,” I replied.

He spanked me several more times with his hand, switched his grip then spanked me with his other hand.  He could have let me go and I probably would have stayed there afraid he would have grabbed me again.

“Apologize,” he said.

“No,” I said.

He continued to spank me and it wasn’t just the pain but the feeling, the shame of being spanked as I thought about all the other guys I had sat with, the guys who I had seen wrestling.  I started to cry.

“Holy shit he’s crying,” someone said.

“No I’m not,” I said.

“Yes you are,” someone said.

“Spank him more,” someone said.

“Spank his ass until he cries like a baby.”

I felt the whacks get harder, or else my ass was getting worn out, he spanked me until I broke into a quiet sob then he loosened the tension on my balls.

“Are you sorry?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes what?”

I didn’t think I would have ever said it to anyone my own age but I blurted out, “yes sir” before he let go of me and stood.  I fell onto my arm and began to weep as I heard and watched the other guys walk away.  I cried for a long time until it was all gone, all of my strength left me and I was there again in the gymnasium on a mat alone. 

I rolled onto my side to look if anyone was around.  I saw no one so I pushed myself up with my good arm.  The place was empty.  I saw my hoody and running pants on the bleachers where I left them.  I got up, walked over, adjusted myself.

As I stood there I felt my ass again in a new way, sore from being spanked.  I rubbed at it.  I had been humiliated.  I had been embarrassed and I only had myself to blame. 

What would my ass look like tomorrow?  What would it look like in a week when there was another meeting?  Could I face him again?

The Brat

The sequel to Act Your Age.

All the same characters, all the same rules, and all the same discipline.

Just in time for Christmas. Dec. 21, 2014.

>47k words, $3.99, Amazon eBook and Print Editions

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Act Your Age Ch 21 - Vegas Car Ride

Everything was packed.  We were going on a trip, a vacation, to Las Vegas as part of my reward for finishing the academic year with good grades.  I hadn’t been in trouble for some time, my butt had healed.  He was in the shower while I sat on the closed toilet seat lid dressed and ready, tapping my fingers on my knee.

“Settle down young man or it’s going to be a very uncomfortable ride,” he said.

But I couldn’t let it go.  I wanted to get out of his town.  I wanted to be somewhere I had never been before and I wanted him to quit dragging his feet about it.

“I’ll flush the toilet,” I said.

“Don’t you dare,” he replied.

“You’re taking too long,” I said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get in after dark, it’s the best time to see the city anyway, and then we’ll go out to eat and get back to our room for some fun.”

It all sounded too good.  Anything he was doing here he could do there, I thought.  I liked him just the way he was but I knew he still wanted to shave.  I decided to give him a jump start.  I went to the sink where he keeps a glass he uses for water to wash out his mouth.  I filled it with cold water from the tap, went to the shower door, stretched over the top and dropped the cold water down his back.  He let out a yell of discomfort and turned off the shower.

I stepped back as he opened the shower door.  I had expected him to be a little annoyed but I could tell he was mad.  He signaled with his finger for me to come closer and for a moment I thought about running.  I thought about him chasing after me and his dick bouncing as he ran.  It would have been a great thing to see but not if he caught me, not if I was the one being chased.  I gave in to his finger and moved closer.

He took hold of my ear until I whined in pain.  He turned me slightly and jerked down my pants and underwear, swatted me twice.  I thought for a moment it was over.

“I’ve had enough.  Sit down there.”  He pointed to the closed toilet lid.  “When I get out you’re going over my knee.”

“Aw, come on,” I said.

“You’ve been pushing me for some time and not just today.  I know what you want.”

It was true.  I had been.  And maybe I wanted, needed, a spanking but then I thought about the trip, our vacation, and if I didn’t fall in line we’d be even more late.  Would he blame me?  Would he call the whole thing off?

“But we should get on the road,” I said.

“That can wait.  Sit.”

I went to the toilet and sat on the lid.  I looked to him as he stepped out of the shower and picked up the towel.  He dried himself carefully, wrapped the towel around his waist and moved to the sink where he cleaned off a spot of condensation.  I watched as he carefully shaved himself.
Each second felt longer than the last, each movement felt like it was leading to my punishment.  He finished shaving, cleaned off his face, dried it, and applied aftershave.  I could barely get a proper mustache.  He looked to me and motioned with his head for me to follow.  I got to my feet and walked behind him into his bedroom where I saw our suitcases were still open on the bed.

“Did you pack any paddles?” he asked.

“No sir,” I said.

“Get me that one you hate.  We may just have to take it with us for the weekend to keep you in line.”

My stomach tightened and my toes curled.  There was one that I hated more than the rest because it was small with holes and he could wield it with precision and force.

“Aw, please,” I said.

“Lose the attitude young man,” he said.

My jaw fell to my clavicle and I turned away, shuffled to the dresser.  I heard him open a drawer and getting out clothes.  He was going to spank me, then we were going to drive to Vegas and take the paddle with us.

“Hurry it up,” he said.

I looked over the paddles in the drawer.  For just a moment I thought about picking out the wrong one and trying to be cute, maybe it was possible to get him back on my side and relent.  He pushed a drawer shut and I heard him begin to whistle.  I picked up the paddle I hated and carried it back to him.

He was half dressed in a pair of white boxers and an undershirt.  He moved to the bed and pushed one of the suitcases to the other end so he could sit.  I moved to him and bit my lip.  He sat.  I handed him the paddle.  He undid my pants and pulled them down.  We were going straight to the pain, not even a warm up.  He pulled me down to his lap, my underwear down around my ass to expose the flesh.  My cheeks parted a little, felt as if they hadn’t ever felt, more exposed, more vulnerable because though I had been there before, this time I had encouraged it.  This time I had brought this on myself.

He swatted me slowly.  At least he was giving me that.  I grunted with the first few but then it got harder to keep in the pain.  I gripped at his leg, grabbed hold of his shin.  The paddle felt as if it were digging into me each time, a little further and further until it was in my brain, behind my eyes and I began to scream and wail, snot ran from my nose and I cried.  I was powerless but I could make sure it didn’t happen again if I behaved.

He stopped and laid his hand on my butt.  He was still damp from the shower.  He pulled me to his lap and I leaned against his shoulder.  I kissed him on the cheek and nuzzled against his neck.  He smelled of aftershave and soap.  We sat there until I had regained my composure and then he set me on my feet and pulled up my underwear, then my pants, buckled them tight, tighter than I usually wear them.  I didn’t know if it was another punishment or he just didn’t know how I usually wore it.  He gave me the paddle and told me to pack it in my case.  I thought about leaving it behind, all the ways I could make it disappear, but I didn’t.  I packed it.

Fifteen minutes later we had everything in the car and I was in the passenger seat.  It felt good on my butt.  I felt a little energy still in me so I connected my MP3 player and started a science podcast but my energy waned easily and I soon fell asleep.  He woke me once when he pulled into a gas station for snacks.  He asked me if I wanted anything and I requested that he pick something out.  My ass hurt so I decided to get out and do some walking.  I looked around at the desert landscape.  The gas station looked more like a barn but if a corporation had made it, something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

I stretched my legs and looked around at the other people.  I spotted two women walking from two vans parked next to each other.  They led a group of children towards the store.  Mormons, I thought.  I wondered if they were married to the same man or just two mothers who were friends.

“Are you ready to go?” Mr. Grant asked breaking me from my reverie.

I turned to him and he held up plastic bags full of snacks for the road so I got back inside, careful not to sit just on my butt.  He handed me the bags and I looked inside to find my favorites.  It was a mild reprieve from my punishment.

“The desert reminds me of those apocalypse movies,” I said.

“It’s kind of interesting isn’t it?”

“I’ve never been on the ocean in a boat but it makes me think about how big we feel until we see ourselves, you know.  It’s kind of like seeing a picture of the earth.  It’s easy to think about being able to fly over all of this but when you’re just one person alone walking through it then it’s vast and uncompromising.”

He reached over and took my hand but he didn’t speak.  I was at a loss for words so I shifted a little, reclined the back of my seat.  He let go of my hand and rested his on my knee as he continued to drive I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.

Hours later he woke me again because we were in Las Vegas and driving down the strip.  I looked up at the lights.  It was a random assortment of themes and buildings reminiscent of photographs and movies.  I had almost forgotten about my sore butt until near the end as the lights fell behind us.  We drove through darkness, closed store fronts, and parked cars until there were more lights ahead.  We went right through the middle of Old Town Las Vegas.  I could see the neon cowboy and other older looking signs.

“That was the five cent tour,” he said.  “Want to get to our hotel?”

“Yeah,” I said enthusiastically.

He drove us out of old town and back towards The Strip, but we made a detour off to another hotel.  We pulled up front and there was a valet there.  Mr. Grant opened the trunk and we took hold of our luggage.  We weren’t the the types to wait for someone else to do it.  We dragged everything inside to the front desk.  He was focused on the task at hand but I looked around at the gambling areas.  Most of the people were at the tables gambling and very few were at the slot machines.  I was tempted to run over to one and play but stopped myself.

After Mr. Grant checked us in a bell hop came around with a cart for our bags.  It felt nice to hand them over and walk unencumbered to the elevator.  Mr. Grant and I stood close to each other.  The bell hop eyed us but didn’t say anything.  I wanted to kiss Mr. Grant right there but didn’t.  We went up to the fifteenth floor and the bellhop led us down to our room.  Mr. Grant unlocked it and we entered.  The bellhop followed, set our bags just inside our room.  I went to the window that was open.  We had an accidental view of the Strip.  It was a beautiful sight.  I heard Mr. Grant tip the man, then usher him out and close the door.

I waited for him as I heard him cross the room.  He stopped behind me and pulled me into his arms.  He kissed me on my neck.  He pulled my shirt out, then up my chest.  He tickled my chest with his fingers before he pulled off my shirt completely and dropped it to the ground.  He went back to my neck with his lips as he unbuckled my belt, undid my pants, and let them fall down to my ankles.  He pulled at the sides of my underwear and for a moment I thought he was going to rip them off until he pushed the backside down around my ass.  He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed me there as his hands went up to my nipples.  He slowly worked them until they were as hard as they could get, then he began to pull on them a little making me moan in pleasure and pain.  I wanted him.  I took hold of his arms around me and pulled him to the desk area in front of the window where I leaned down onto its empty surface.

He pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles, pressed his hard cock against my ass.  I felt it there between my red cheeks.  It was a little slick but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“Fuck I forget where I packed the lube,” he said.

“Just use spit,” I said.

“I can’t.  It’ll hurt.”

I turned on him, sunk down to my knees.  His dick almost poked me in the eye before I maneuvered it between my lips.  I nipped at the head and felt pre-cum.  I worked some spit around in my mouth before I opened and stuck the head inside to just to work it a little, but I knew the best way to get it lubricated was drool from gagging so I got more aggressive.  I forced myself down onto him, letting his dick trigger my gag reflex until more spit formed in my mouth.  I worked him like this for a while until I could run my hand up and down the shaft easily, then I spit into my own hand and began to rub it down between my legs into my asshole.  I felt my sphincter give a little.

I got back up to my feet, turned, and pulled him into me.  He worked his dick down to my hole where he pushed inside.  There was grunting and moaning from both of us until he could work his dick easily.  Every emotion was released from me as we fucked.  I didn’t think about anything else but us in that room.  There was no past, no future.  He kissed at the back of my ear and vibrations ran through my body.  He grabbed at my chest, his fingers on my hard nipples.  I closed my eyes and turned back to him for a kiss.  Our lips touched, our tongues touched, and I had him every way I could have ever wanted.

He pushed me to the bed, where I got on my knees face down with my cheek pressed into the bed sheet.  The bed shifted as he got up behind me, took hold of me as he quickened his pace, battered away at me, his dick swollen inside of my hole.  A tickle from my prostate and I thought for a moment I would piss myself.  I writhed on the bed until I felt the need to turn over.  I wanted to see his face, look in his eyes, so I turned on his dick.  He put my ankles over his shoulders and worked himself back into a rhythm, hitting my prostate each time in the new position.  His face was a deep red.  He worked me over the edge until I ejaculated all over myself, over my head, down over my face, until it dribbled out into my pubic hair.  He had an orgasm soon after, his ejaculate flooded inside of me.  He collapsed onto me, kissed at my lips, my neck, until he had no more energy.  His warm chest against mine, my fluid between us.

We let out nervous laughter, pleased sighs, before we worked ourselves apart.  He got to his feet and pulled me up, turned me and walked me to the bathroom where he we got into the shower.  His ejaculate began to run out of me and down my leg so I wiped it up.  We cleaned ourselves and each other until it felt like we had new bodies.  It would have been too easy to stay in after that, with barely talking about it we got dressed and headed down to the hotel restaurant.

It felt like we had spent days together and our vacation was already over, that is until I saw the hardwood chair.  I remembered my spanking, my red ass.  There was no pride in asking for something soft like a pillow.  He saw me squirm and we both chuckled, our own private joke.  We giggled through the meal and all of the way back to our room.  I stripped out of my clothes, he did the same.  We hung them up in the closet and I went to the bed where I lay face down.  He lay next to me.

That night he marveled at my reddened butt and played with it for a long time, maybe my spanking was a good way to start a vacation after all.

Act Your Age Ch 20 - redtail88

It wasn’t easy getting through the next few days but when the time finally came I felt worse the hour before he was supposed to arrive.  I couldn’t help but think about how things could go wrong, how he might not show, and if he did.  I tried to tell myself I had nothing to worry about but I still felt terrible.  When there was a knock on the door I couldn’t help but jump to my feet.  I was in the dining room reading a book for class at the time and Mr. Grant was in the kitchen. 

Of course he was quicker than me in getting to the door.  I followed after him worried it would be some stranger, a door to door salesman or something.  It wasn’t.  I could see Ethan there on the porch just over Mr. Grant’s shoulder.  I had forgotten how handsome he was and I couldn’t help but smile a little and hope that I didn’t blush.  Ethan looked just as nervous until he saw me.  He smiled back.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Grant.”

“I’m Ethan.”

They shook hands and Mr. Grant ushered him inside, told him to take off his shoes and leave them by the door.  I put my hands in my pockets unsure if we should shake or hug.  I wanted to hug him.  He just looked to me out of the corner of his eyes as Mr. Grant invited him to have a seat in the living room.  He took the chair where I had first sat and Mr. Grant moved to the couch opposite.  I moved to the doorway with my hands still in my pockets.

“I know you’ve been chatting with Shane and he met you the other day but I was hoping you could tell me about yourself.”

My voice caught in my throat as I was about to interject and say all of this wasn’t needed.  I stopped myself though, or more like I couldn’t talk because I didn’t know where to begin.  I didn’t know what I could say that would simplify things.  Ethan cleared his throat as he crossed one knee over the other.

“Well, I guess, um, I work as a barista at an independent coffee shop.  I graduated from college a few years ago.  I guess, uh, I’ve been into spanking for some time.  I would fantasize about it and looked up videos and things.  Nobody knows though, no one I know.  They all seem to think it’s too weird.  Some people say that it’s like only sadists who get into it.  The guys I’ve dated thought it was kind of weird when I brought it up.  I’ve been going to chat rooms off and on but the guys there usually creep me out, same with websites.  It all kind of makes me nervous.”

Mr. Grant looked to me as I stood there, smiled a little but then went back to his normal, serious face as he looked back to Ethan who sat tapping his fingers against the armrests of the chair.  I wanted to step into the room and just bring them together.  I wanted to grab hold of each of them and just pull them close but I knew I had to let things play out.  This was not my situation, not my place.  I had to let them do that for themselves.

“What’s it like then?”

“Spanking?  It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it.  It’s vulnerable and raw.  It’s primitive.  You drop your pants to someone who whacks you.  You expose yourself.  It’s like recovering after a night of drinking.  You kind of had this sense of the world but then this thing happens and you recover from it.  I feel like it really straightens me out, keeps me in line.”

“And what are you looking to get out of today?”

Ethan looked to me.  He looked so vulnerable, his eyes betrayed his easy, confident demeanor.  I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to leave or if he was finding courage by having me there.  I looked to Mr. Grant who remained focused on Ethan.

“I want you to make me cry,” he said.  “It’s not easy.  I know I can take a lot and I’m not looking to end up in the emergency room or anything.  I don’t want to get injured but still I feel like I have this thing inside of me that has to come out.”

“Are there any implements you do or don’t want me to use?”

“I’m not a big fan of the belt but I always had this fantasy,” he said before looking away to the wall, “of being spanked in the kitchen with a wooden spoon.”

“What else did you have in mind?”

Ethan looked to him, looked him in the eye before looking to the coffee table.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

“Do you mind if Shane stays?”

“I was hoping he would,” Ethan said.

“Anything else?”

“Maybe if he could get spanked too,” Ethan said.

“Not tonight, Shane has been a very good boy this week and I’m not sure it would be right.  We have an understanding.”

I wanted to volunteer but something about how Mr. Grant had said that made me think twice.  I suspected he was having the same, or similar, feelings of jealousy that I had.  It was the right thing.  I thought Mr. Grant was going to speak again, maybe ask another question but instead he got up and crossed the room to Ethan where he reached down and took hold of the young man’s shirt.  Ethan raised his arms as Mr. Grant pulled it up over his body to reveal a tan, surprisingly muscled chest. 

Mr. Grant then took hold of Ethan under his arm pit and guided him up to his feet where he took hold of the young man’s belt and unbuckled it.  This was it.  This was happening.  I didn’t want to be anywhere else.  I wanted to be right there.  I tried to memorize every detail.  The way they looked, the smell of them, and the easy way Mr. Grant unfastened Ethan’s jeans that fell to the floor with a thud.  He stepped out of them clumsily, I could see the way his dick moved with his thighs.  He had a substantial package. 

When he put both feet back on the ground he lowered his head and looked to Mr. Grant out of the corner of his eyes.  Mr. Grant placed a hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades and carefully led him through the living room, past me.  It was going to happen, I told myself, I was going to see someone, not just someone but my new friend Ethan, get spanked.  I followed after them and stepped into the kitchen as Mr. Grant led him over to the table. 

“Assume the position,” Mr. Grant said.

Ethan obediently leaned down to the table where he put both elbows firmly in place.  His head was low.  His hair was loose down over his eyes and he looked to me as Mr. Grant retrieved a wooden spoon.  It was almost an accusing stare as if I had done this to him.  Was he going through this for me?  Mr. Grant placed the spoon on the table in front of him.

“Is this good?”

“Yes,” Ethan said.

“What was that?”

“Yes sir,” Ethan replied.

“Good, now tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you to spank me sir,” Ethan said.

“What did you do to deserve this?”

“I’ve been a bad boy sir,” Ethan said.

“And you want me to make you cry?” Mr. Grant asked.

“Yes sir,” Ethan said.

“Tell me specifically what you did wrong,” Mr. Grant said.

Ethan took a deep breath.  He looked back to me and Mr. Grant told him to look back to the spoon.  He shifted on his feet, tried to move his elbows but couldn’t as he had too much weight on them.

“I’ve stolen from my boss sir.  I gave free drinks to my friends, snacks too.  Also, I’ve been feeling too proud and it’s been getting to me.  I almost got into a fight with someone at a bar the other day sir.  He was just being friendly but I took it the wrong way and it got a little physical.  I shoved him sir.  I deserve to be punished.”

Mr. Grant looked to me but he was difficult to read.  I wanted to run to him, grab hold of him and stop what was about to happen but I knew I had to keep my place for both of their sakes.  Ethan’s look wasn’t accusation.  It was embarrassment.  Mr. Grant picked up the spoon and moved behind Ethan where he looked over his target.

The first crack sounded too fake but I saw it so I knew it had happened.  The second and I knew it was really happening.  I watched Mr. Grant strike him three more times across his boxer clad ass before Ethan let out a grunt of pain.  He laid into him five more times before he stopped.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Grant asked.

“Yes sir,” Ethan said.

“Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes sir.”

Mr. Grant swatted him ten more times but he barely moved or made a sound.  Was he trying to be tough to impress me?  The spanking continued for several more swats and I zoned out until Ethan let out a moan.  Mr. Grant stopped and took hold of Ethan’s boxers by the cuffs that stuck out from behind his thighs.  He slowly pulled them down to Ethan’s ankles, tapped each calf in turn to help him step out of them.  I could see him full in profile, his dick hung down from him, his balls were loose and big.  His ass was round and pink.  I got excited by the sight of him.  There had been so many times I had wished to see something like this and there it was. 

Mr. Grant resumed his position to continue the spanking.  I watched as he worked over Ethan’s ass, letting him get comfortable just before moving on to a new spot.  I watched Ethan’s whole body turn pink as he shifted on his feet and elbows.  He started to hold his breath between whacks, then between several.  That’s when Mr. Grant stopped and placed a reassuring hand on Ethan’s shoulder, placed the wooden spoon down on the table for Ethan to see.  He motioned for the young man to stand up, then pulled him into a hug. 

Ethan looked over Mr. Grant’s shoulder to me.  He was about to cry but I could tell he was holding it back.  I shifted on my feet as my body ached from standing still too long.  I too had been holding my breath and began to breath deep, let it push out my stomach as I stared him in the eye.  Was he holding back for me?  Did he want to show me how much he could take or was his threshold just higher?  I felt on edge just witnessing it.  My skin was tight and I felt like just one little prick and I could pop. 

“Are you ready for more?”

“Yes sir,” Ethan said. 

His voice muffled by Mr. Grant’s shoulder and his own pain.  Mr. Grant reached down to his ass and grabbed it with both hands, then ran his fingernails over the tenderized flesh.  He did this until Ethan began to squirm, that’s when he took hold of Ethan by the ear and pulled him to a kitchen chair where he sat and pulled Ethan down over his knee.  His bare ass pointed right at me I could see every detail, the minute differences of coloration.  His butt cheeks parted naturally, his balls and dick stuck down between his thighs, and his asshole, his vulnerable asshole was right there.

“Shane, I was going to use my hand but I think Ethan here needs a little more with the spoon.  Would you get it for me?”

I had gotten comfortable standing there, my hands down at my sides hoping the shadow would help cover my erection.  I opened my mouth to speak but really I was thirsty.  It all felt so concrete, so rough, but I made my way to the table where I picked up the spoon and carried it to Mr. Grant, handed it over. 

Closer to Ethan’s ass I worried for a second his flesh couldn’t take anymore.  Thats when Mr. Grant struck his thighs, alternated between them until Ethan groaned and reached back with his free hand to try and stop the spanking.  Mr. Grant expertly took hold of his wrist and pulled it to the middle of his back before continuing.  He worked them for some time as Ethan writhed on his lap, not yet ready to cry but grunting and moaning in pain.  I was excited by the sound and the sight of him.  He was my friend, I thought, this shouldn’t be exciting.

Mr. Grant stopped and handed me back the spoon.  I returned it to the table and looked back to them.  I wasn’t sure if I should stay there or if I could move closer but I felt my erection pressing against my underwear and tenting my pants so I covered myself.  Mr. Grant didn’t seem to notice and instead turned his attention back to Ethan.

“Do you still want me to make you cry?”

Ethan grunted approval so Mr. Grant spanked him with an open hand.  It sounded like clapping, an absurd sound to me to hear at that moment.  I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.  He struck him several more times on each cheek, each thigh.  A slap to the skin that ran up his legs, through his back, and forced a sound out of Ethan’s mouth.  For a moment I thought I could feel it but then Mr. Grant stopped and he pulled at Ethan’s shoulder, told him to get to his feet.  His head low he stood and looked to me out of the corner of his eye.

“I want you to go hug Shane,” Mr. Grant said.

I raised my head and tried to ready myself but I wasn’t prepared when he walked to me and wrapped his arms around my chest.  His head went to my shoulder, my own arms fell down around his body.  That’s when he began to cry.  He shook and constricted around me, my hands touched his sweaty skin.  Just that brush of skin felt like I had done something wrong so I tried to keep them from touching him.  His hair smelled of melon, natural body odor emanated from his pits.  I felt him spasm for a long time as Mr. Grant watched us.  We stood like that for so long I couldn’t help but let my hands touch him.  His breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

Mr. Grant got up and moved to us.  He placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and the other on my face as he smiled a little at me.  He brushed along my jaw line.  I wanted to pull him into my embrace but I knew I shouldn’t.

“Ethan, I want you to stay here for a while.  I want you to go take a nap.  Let Shane take your hand and lead you back to the guest bedroom.”

He walked away from us into the house, to his bedroom, our bedroom.  I waited a little longer until it felt like the moment had passed and we could drain no more from Ethan’s pain.  I took him by the hand just as Mr. Grant had said.  His touch was warm.  I led him to the guest room where I myself had awoken once and I tucked him into bed face down.  I pulled the sheet over his bruised buns, the small of his back, and his shoulders until he looked safe and harmless.

After I made sure he didn’t need anything else I left the room, closed the door, and went to find Mr. Grant.  He was sitting on the edge of our bed.  I closed our bedroom door, moved around the bed, got on it with my knees and scuttled across to wrap my arms around his shoulders.  I knew at once that it had taken something from him too, left him tired and in need of comfort.  Had he been like this after he spanked me?  Did he know what it felt like?

He kissed at my hands, then slowly turned on me, got up from the bed.  He pulled off my shirt, undid my belt.  We kissed as he pushed me down onto the bed.  His body on mine he grabbed at my skin, his hands ran over my body, went to my pants and pulled them down as he broke the kiss.  He took off my socks, ran his fingers up my legs until he stopped at my crotch where he kissed at my stiff dick that was trapped inside my briefs.  He worked it for a little before he pulled my underwear down, my dripping erection was slick and hard.  He took it in his mouth, pulled at my balls.  I bent under him until my ass was off the bed.  I bucked a little. 

He had me on the edge of an orgasm and that’s when he let my dick out of his mouth and moved down under my balls and to my taint where he licked.  My cock pointed back up towards my face he kept at it until I orgasmed sending ejaculate across my body.  It hit above my head first, then down over my face, my neck and my belly.  My ass fell back to the bed as I let out a laugh.  He laughed too as he moved up to my belly where he licked up the small pool of cream.  It tickled and I laughed some more.  He put his head down against me.  I thought for a moment to do the same thing to him but it felt too good.  I was too satisfied and I had a feeling he felt nearly the same thing.  He fell asleep on me and moments later I fell asleep as well. 

When we awoke he led me into the bathroom where he started the water as I stood next to him with one hand on my hip.  I couldn’t help but notice my healed butt cheeks in the mirror.  I was in the tub when Ethan walked into our bedroom.  He called out for us and Mr. Grant told him to come into the bathroom.  I looked up from the water to see Ethan there in his boxers rubbing at one eye.  I loved the sight of his abs, the way his muscles moved for such a casual act.

“Can I get something to drink?” Ethan asked.

Mr. Grant looked to me, we stared each other in the eye.

“Are you okay to finish this?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

After my bath, I pulled on a pair of underwear and went to find Mr. Grant and Ethan.  I walked through the house expecting to see them around every corner but I was confused by not seeing them until I heard their laughter.  They were out on the back porch.  I followed the sounds of them until I got to the open door.  The porch was enclosed so there was little risk of being seen, though that wasn’t really a problem as technically I wasn’t naked, but still I was hesitant. 

Each of them had a beer and a cigar.  And I sensed a kind of masculine bond between them that I didn’t want to ruin.  I felt out of place as I watched them.  Mr. Grant was in his late thirties, Ethan a few years older than me, and yet it felt like there was a familiarity I couldn’t have.  They had seen things.  They had done things.  They had worked in terrible jobs, compromised ethics and morals, but I was still more so a virgin. 

Mr. Grant spotted me in the doorway and called me to him where he invited me to sit on his lap.  His arm around my side, his arm hairs tickled my flesh. 

“You have a good thing here,” Ethan said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

I put my arm around Mr. Grant’s shoulders and held him close.  I knew I had a good thing and I didn’t want to lose it any time soon.

Act Your Age Ch 19 - Spanking Friend

I was back on my best behavior, doing all of my homework to the best of my ability, and working at Mr. Grant’s restaurant.  His business partner had me do some paperwork so my actual hire date was later than when I started working there but that seems like a small thing.  Everything was going pretty good, especially because when I told Mr. Grant about my new chat friend and what we talked about.  He encouraged me to continue it.  At first I was worried it was some kind of trick, maybe some way of testing our relationship.  But then he said we should both get our blood tested together, which took some of the anxiety out of going alone and it also made me think that sometime soon we might get closer, more intimate.

When we got our test results back I suggested we open the other person’s results.  We both came back negative.  I was relieved because I had been engaging in some risky behavior.  I thought that night that we’d fuck but we didn’t.  Instead we worked our regular shift at the restaurant and cuddled together in bed afterward.  I got the sense he wasn’t ready and I didn’t push it.

After some weeks chatting with redtail88, bonding over our favorite music, our favorite television shows, and movies, and books, he told me his real name was Ethan and that he worked at a local coffee shop as a barista.  That was the night we exchanged phone numbers and started messaging each other directly, on break, between classes, and when we got up in the morning.  It was like I had a new best friend.  We talked about spanking, sex, and being young.  Somehow I felt I could be more honest because I might never meet him in person.

Then, one day I told him about how well I had been behaving and how I hadn’t gotten a spanking in a long time.  He said he was proud of me but asked if I missed it.  I had to confess that there was something about the feeling of it that I missed.  He told me not to misbehave but ask for it.  Somehow that felt worse.  The idea of going to Mr. Grant, asking him, just thinking about it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  I told him and he said I shouldn’t deny myself.

That’s when I started asking him about the last time he’d been spanked and he told me it had been a while and that he missed it.  We talked for ways he could meet up with someone but he said that applications and websites were unreliable.  He felt ashamed to ask anyone he was friends with or even guys he met at bars because he was worried about being labeled a pervert.  I told him I felt sorry for him and we got onto a new subject pretty quickly but I kept trying to thinking about how to help him.

I was working in the restaurant one day when it occurred to me that maybe Mr. Grant might help him.  He had a certain level of authority, responsibility, sanity, and detachment, after all he had spanked me and it didn’t require sex.  I thought out my whole argument, my convincing speech for two days before I went to him to make the request.  I decided to do it early one morning after breakfast as I stood in my briefs cleaning up.  He was reading the news on his computer at the dining room table.

“So, I was talking to my friend online the other day, redtaill88, I mean Ethan, and  we were talking about spanking and he said, well, he might be interested, you know in getting one.”

“You want to spank him?”

“Well, no, well actually, no, I was thinking, maybe, if you knew someone or maybe, I don’t know if we could, you know maybe if he came here, you could give him one.”

He closed his laptop and looked to me.  I was afraid he would be angry but I saw something else in his eyes.  He was curious.  He leaned back on the chair but didn’t cross his arms.

“I’m not sure,” he said.  “I just thought you needed some discipline.”

“I did, I mean I do, but he does too,” I said.

“And what did he have to say about spanking?”

“That it’s cathartic, and it really puts him on track afterwards.  So many of the guys he knows are too vanilla, and he’s worried about his friends finding out, and he doesn’t trust sites or applications too much.  He said he met some creeps that way.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” he said before picking up his laptop and walking out of the room.

I decided not to bother him about it.  I knew he would think it over, consider it, and decide what was best for him, and for me.  The day felt kind of normal after that, though every time I texted with Ethan I wanted to tell him about my request but knew I had to keep it a secret because if it didn’t work out he might blame Mr. Grant instead of understanding his reasons.

As it turned out I didn’t have to wait long because that night after work as we got into bed he brought up the subject.  He said he would do it but there was no commitment.  He said I could be there if Ethan wanted but not to ask or expect to take part in either being spanked or spanking him.  I knew it was a compromise, maybe in some part to make me happy, so I didn’t push for anything else.

I told Ethan the next day via text message and he responded minutes later that he was excited about it and he couldn’t wait to meet me.  That’s when it occurred to me that I had never actually met him.  Who was I inviting over?  I knew I had to meet him first, had to check him out.  I asked to meet him after his shift and he agreed.  He said he’d be off by two o’clock and told me the name of the place and the address.  He told me what he looked like.

I had to take the bus to get there, and I mapped out how to get to campus afterward.  I showed up fifteen minutes early.  I decided before hand that if I felt uncomfortable at any time I would just walk away.  I didn’t want to be so greedy, so excited, that I put myself or Mr. Grant at risk.  The place was called Shades of Black.  It was an independent, small coffee shop in a bohemian part of town, near the college, that was being gentrified by gays and lesbians who wanted something quaint and diverse.  I could tell by the patrons who sat in front at the tables there that I liked it.  Many were young, pierced, and tattooed.

Inside it was small, enough room for tables and chairs, narrow aisles to make it to the back corner where the coffee bar was.  The walls were decorated with paintings and collages that looked amateur but were also interesting, each of them had a placard with the name of the piece, name of the artist, and price.

I didn’t pay much attention to each of them though because I was on a mission so I worked my way to the line of customers, and to where I saw Ethan for the first time as he worked the register.  Ethan was handsome and there was something earthy about him.  He wore a button down shirt that was open at the collar.  His hair was combed and neat but he didn’t use anything to hold it, clean shaven.  He was naturally muscled but had an efficiency of movement that made me think he was comfortable.
Slowly I got worked to the front of the line.  He was the only person working.  I stepped close, but had been thinking about my introduction so much that I didn’t realize he expected me to order something.  I thought to keep it simple, maybe get a snack.

“I’m uh, I’m, I’ll have a drip coffee with a fresh biscotti,” I said.

He nodded and walked away to get my order.  I looked over the glass counter to see he wore slacks and had a nice ass.  It would be nice to see it turned red, I thought, but then reprimanded myself for thinking something like that about someone I hadn’t met in person and was like a friend.  He brought everything back easy enough and looked over my shoulder before he leaned close.

“It’s on the house,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows with surprise.

“You’re Shane right,” he said.

“How did you?  I mean, I didn’t tell you what I looked like,” I said.

“You told me about your cane and how you still walked around with it sometimes, especially if you were nervous because you could use it as a weapon to defend yourself.”

“Old habits,” I replied.

“I thought you gave it up,” he said.

“Sort of, but like you said.”

“Nothing to worry about, I get off in fifteen minutes, or at least when the next guy shows up.  He’s running late.  Why don’t you go wait out front?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” I said before picking up my coffee and small plate with my snack.  I turned away from him, looked back once, then continued on my way.

It was easy to find a place to sit, though the tables seemed a little too close together.  I hooked my cane around the arm rest and began to eat my biscotti but after a few bites I lost interest when I saw someone light up a cigarette nearby.  It made me want one, more than that a drink.  I sat back and pulled my phone from my pocket, found a game and began to play it.

Several rounds later Ethan approached the table so I ended the game and put my phone away as I signaled for him to have a seat.  He was more handsome the second time, definitely someone I would have gone after in a bar.  He had a certain look that made it hard to believe he would be into spanking.  It was difficult to think anyone else would be into it at that point in my life.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” he said.  “I was trying to imagine what you looked like.  I was kind of worried you’d be some kind of creep or something.”

I couldn’t help myself as I sat up and leaned against the table.  A mean joke popped into my head and I just had to say it.

“Actually I’m not Shane, he’s around the corner in a van with some handcuffs,” I said.  I felt bad as soon as I had said it.

He raised an eyebrow to me, then I laughed and he did the same.  Had I ruined my first impression?  I thought about how I could win him back into my confidence.

“I’m joking, you know, sorry, I’m trying to get over being sarcastic.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re nervous,” he said.

“Thanks,” I replied as I relaxed in my chair.

Somehow I was at a loss for words after that.  We had shared so much that it felt like some ball of stuff, something that had been left outside, and we couldn’t talk about the reason we were meeting, not really.  Who talks about spanking in public?  Who talks about getting together for a session?  At first I was relieved when he looked like he was about to speak.

“Tell me about Mr. Grant,” he said.  “You haven’t really said much about him.  I didn’t know if it was because he read your text messages or anything like that.”

“What?  No, he’s not anything like that.  He’s really cool actually.  He just started his own restaurant, you know that, and he had to get his ex-boyfriend out of it.  That was pretty difficult for him to do personally.  I told you he’s my next door neighbor.  He’s uh, well usually he’s pretty calm.”

“You don’t think he’s like a sadist or anything?”

“No, no way, he’s very uh, judicious I guess, about you know, when it happens.  He’s really fair, but he holds me to a standard you know.”

“Are the two of you a couple?  Is he your boyfriend?  You didn’t really make that clear.”

“Yeah, I guess, it’s not official.  I did kind of move in though.  We’ve spent just about every night cuddled together in bed.  It’s a bit weird working with him then going home together but you know, it’s good.”

“Do you think he keeps secrets?  He’s never mean?”

“No, really, he’s cool,” I said.

“Did he seem okay with us, you know, me?”

“Yeah, I mean he was reluctant at first but he came around to it.  I think for him it’s more about discipline, you know.”

“That sounds pretty nice, it’s so hard to find a guy like that.”

Suddenly I had a pang of jealousy as I thought about taking Ethan home, back to Mr. Grant’s where they might get along too well.  What if they wanted to do it again?  What else could happen?  Was Ethan the mature, young man that Mr. Grant was trying to teach me to be?  I had regret for even messaging Ethan, but especially for inviting him and meeting him.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.

He got up and I did the same.  I was about to leave my coffee on the table when he noticed it and went back to retrieve the cup and dish.  He took them inside, then came back out to me as I stood in the sunlight.  When he got back to me he asked if I had to catch a bus and when.  I told him and he seemed to make a note of it before he led me down the sidewalk.  We started to talk about small things, make jokes, and tell funny stories.  He led me on a complicated route to the bus stop, five minutes early.  We fell silent as other people were there.  We’d look at each other and we couldn’t help but smile or laugh for no good reason.

Finally the bus arrived a few minutes late and he stepped with me as I got onboard, but stopped short, moved to the side.  I thanked him and he thanked me back.  It was an odd conversation, an odd meeting, and yet I liked him.  How much can you ever really know about someone?  He didn’t seem dangerous.  I walked to the back of the bus and couldn’t help but notice he stared in the bus’s direction.  It was kind of cute.  I had this feeling that I should text him but stopped myself from doing it right away.  I waited until I got to campus, then I texted him that I made it safely to college and that I’d talk with him after class.  He responded with a smiley face.

Class was boring.  I couldn’t help but keep thinking about Ethan and Mr. Grant.  What had I done?  But then I pushed the thoughts from my mind when I got out.  I sent a message to Ethan and one to Mr. Grant saying the meeting went well and that I’d meet him at the restaurant.  Ethan responded with a message telling me he was eating ice cream in his underwear as he surfed the internet.  Mr. Grant sent a message thanking me and telling me we’d talk about it after work.  It was a precarious situation but I was happy.  I had two men in my life, a friend and a potential lover.

After work we talked about Ethan.  I tried to give as much detail as I could and I told Mr. Grant that I thought he was a good guy and that I thought we could trust him.  Mr. Grant said that he trusted me and that I should try to make the session for the weekend when both of us were free. 

Back to Basics Pt 2/2

By the time I got back to the living room Bobby had on a pair of jeans and was sitting on the couch, but right in the middle.  I thought about asking him to move over.  Some part of me wanted to wrestle him out of the way but I didn’t.  I thought about his parents, especially his father, and decided to be polite by taking a seat on a nearby chair.  The arms of the chair were high, the cushion long, and I felt ridiculous sitting there but tried to act casual.

I zoned out in front of the television and it didn’t seem like long after that his mother, Mrs. Hutch had returned.  She went about her business quietly, met and talked with her husband in his study, then proceeded to their bedroom.  It wasn’t long after that her husband joined her, a trail of cigar smoke followed after him.  It’s strange listening to people, strangers, someone’s parents, as they pack and get ready.

Everything was going calmly until I heard Mr. Hutch call out both our names from the bedroom followed by Mrs. Hutch chastising him for yelling through the house.  I guess everyone gets it in the end in this house, I thought.  Bobby was quicker to his feet but I got up and followed after him.

Their bedroom was elegant and stylish, everything was in its proper place.  Mrs. Hutch smelled of perfume that made me wrinkle my nose and Mr. Hutch smelled of a musky cologne that made me think about asking what he wore.  There were two suitcases on the bed as well as two travel bags with wheels that stood near the corners.  Mr. Hutch placed his hands on Bobby’s shoulders.

“Everything valuable has been locked in the safe, only we know the numbers.  If something happens our lawyer will give them to you.  We’ve left you two plenty of money in an envelope on the dining room table.  There is plenty of food in the refrigerator.  Since Rick has his car we’ll leave ours in the driveway.  You know where the spares are just in case you need to move it.”  He looked to me.  “That reminds me you shouldn’t leave your car on the street.  Park it in the driveway behind mine.”  He looked back to his son.  “Don’t misbehave this weekend.  I’ve given Rick here permission to do whatever he needs to keep you in line and if he needs to take the belt to you it will be double when I get home.  Do you understand me?”

Bobby nodded.

“We’re taking a taxi to the airport which should be here any minute.  We want to be able to trust you so don’t screw this up.”

“I won’t dad,” Bobby said.

“Good,” his father replied before pulling him into a tight hug.

I watched as Bobby hugged his father.  Their bodies were obviously different.  Bobby was so much smaller and not as bold.

Mrs. Hutch moved to her son and I could tell she was about to go into her own long tirade when her phone rang and she answered it instead.  She just listened for a moment before she ended the call and put her phone back in her purse.

“That was the taxi,” she said.

Mr. Hutch moved to one of the suitcases and indicated I should take the other.  I moved to it and looked to Mrs. hutch who was still intent on talking to her son.
“Help me carry these to the car,” Mr. Hutch said.  “Bobby and Mrs. Hutch will bring the others.”

I pulled the suitcase from the bed, unprepared for its weight I nearly dropped it before redoubling my effort and using my second hand.  Mr. Hutch led the way and I heard Mrs. Hutch begin to talk as we moved down the hallway.  I followed him out of the house and to the waiting taxi where driver opened the trunk.  We hefted the bags inside and moved them to the rear.  I felt like I had accomplished something just by that simple chore.  I stepped to the side and into the grass with Mr. Hutch who looked back at the house impatiently before he remembered something and looked to me.

“One last thing, there is to be absolutely no alcohol this weekend.  I’ve locked up the liquor cabinet and I don’t want you buying any.  You might be legal age but Bobby is not.  If I find one bottle, well it’ll be your ass.  Do you understand me?”

My ass?  There was that threat again.  Was I really to take it that he’d spank me like he did Bobby?  Somehow at that moment I was more worried about not getting paid than getting a spanking.

“I promise no alcohol,” I said.

I thought about the taxi driver there who overheard the conversation.  He looked Indian or maybe Middle-Eastern, so maybe a spanking was normal where he came from and maybe he thought I was the oldest brother instead of the young man hired to watch their son.

Moments later Bobby and his mother emerged from the house, each carrying a bag to the driveway where they set it down then rolled it to the back of the cab.  Bobby lifted both inside and closed the trunk.  His parents hugged him one las time before they got in the backseat.  Bobby moved to my side in the grass and we watched them depart.

Just after they were out of sight he smacked me on the ass and said, “race you inside.”  He sprinted for the front porch but I was close behind him.  He pulled open the screen door and I was right there to take hold if it.  I was on his heels and he didn’t get a chance to close the main door on me.  I closed it instead, then looked for him but he was already gone.
“Where’d you go?”

“I’m getting my game system so we can play on the big screen,” he said.

I sighed in relief, then made my way to the living room.  Bobby came from his bedroom ten minutes later with the game system and wires.  I watched him hook everything up.  There was a dangerous yet playful feeling about him.  He had the potential to do bad things and I was intrigued.

We played video games for over an hour when I began to get bored.  He was much better at them but I couldn’t help but feel a little competitive.  To try and distract him I started pushing him on the arm but it didn’t really work.  When I slipped once and my arm went to his arm pit he laughed a little.  I knew at once by the way he squirmed that he was ticklish.  My character died on the screen and I decided to give up as I had a new source of entertainment, Bobby.  I tickled at his arm pit more.  As he resisted I moved behind him and put my other hand in his other pit.  I tickled at them and down his sides, anywhere he couldn’t defend himself.  It was enough to make him pause the game.

That’s when I really went at him.  He laughed more and squealed from my fingertips as they worked his sensitive areas until he was leaning back into me, trying to grab my hands.  He put his own hands in his arm pits to block me so I reached around to his stomach where I lifted up his shirt and went for the area around his belly button.  It wasn’t as intense but he was still giggling.

“I can’t breathe,” he said.

“Say uncle,” I said.

“No,” he replied.

He grabbed at my hands, my wrists but I managed to get them back out of his grasp.  I tickled his sides again but this time he fell over on his side.  He pulled his knees up into the fetal position but this only brought his feet closer to me.  I grabbed his shoe and pulled it off, held his ankle and tickle him through his sock which made him howl and laugh.

“No stop,” he said.  “I can’t breathe.”

“If you can talk, then you can breathe,” I replied.

He tried to pull away from me but I had a good grip on his ankle.  I locked it against his thigh with my knee to free both hands.  One went to his side and one stayed at his foot.  I tickled him and his giggles became laughter, then squeals of nearly breathless pleasure.

“I’m going to pee myself,” he said.

But I kept at him.  The more he suffered the more I tickled.  It was a renewed effort until finally he cried out.  I stopped and rolled him onto his back and I looked to his crotch where I could see it slowly getting wet.  He had in fact pissed himself.  I immediately regretted what I had done and stopped.  We were both panting from the action.  He lay motionless and I was partially over him.  My hands found their way to his forearms as I looked down at his face.  He was about to cry.  I pushed myself up to his lips and I kissed him gently.

He kissed me back, put one hand up under my shirt and the other down into my pants where he grabbed at my underwear.  I thought for a moment he would slip it down to my ass cheek but he didn’t.  He grabbed the waist band in back and he pulled.  My briefs gave easily, the sides pulled in to my ass crack and he kept pulling until the band was well out of my jeans and up my back.  I pulled away from his kiss and tried to reach back and stop him but I couldn’t.

“No we’re even,” he said.  “Get off me.”

I did as he said.  I got up, if only to get my underwear out of my ass.  He got to his feet and ran off to his bedroom.  I thought about going after him but my own ass took priority so I took down my jeans and undid the wedgie before I pulled them back up.

The living room was quiet.  I felt like I was waiting for hours but then he came into the room.  I looked to see an almost familiar sight.  He wore a white t-shirt and something white covered his crotch, but it wasn’t briefs.  It was plastic and shiny.  I turned my head a little in a quizzical look.  It was a diaper.

“What’s that for?  I promise I won’t tickle you again.”

He didn’t say anything at first.

“You’re not going to make fun of me?” he asked.

I shook my head.

Part 1

Final 3 Chapters

@9PM EST

Chapter 19: 9/6/14

Chapter 20: 9/13/14

Chapter 21: 9/20/14